


From Dread to Blood

by Miss_Shiva_Adler



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Play, D/s undertones, Depressed Magnus Bane, F/M, Felching, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, In this House we Amazon Magnus Bane, Kissing, Knifeplay, Light Pain Play, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Scratching, Vaginal Sex, cutting open clothing, mention and allusion to depression, post coital cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Shiva_Adler/pseuds/Miss_Shiva_Adler
Summary: Several months after Camille helped Magnus off the edge of the bridge, they meet again at one of Camille’s parties. Magnus finally decides to pursue what he had chosen not to during the debacle of the first peace accords between Downworlder and Clave in London several years prior.Shadowhunters Rarepair Exchange 2021Shadowhunters Bingo 2020-2021Square : Free Space
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Camille Belcourt
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7
Collections: Rare Pair Gift Exchange, SHBingo 20-21





	From Dread to Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polarnacht](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polarnacht/gifts).



> Yet again thank you Polarnacht for giving me opportunities. This is less angst and violence and more exploration of how Banecourt came to be before their relationship became toxic. I hope you like it.

He would have let the invitation go unanswered, sent a letter of apology. If it hadn't been for Ragnor who showed up at his door because 'there was no reason in this dimension on earth' he was going to miss this party. He wouldn't have come at all. So there he stood : the bustling of sound was everywhere and music resonated through the room, it drowned out most conversation and everything was overcrowded. Of course Ragnor had disappeared almost as soon as they had arrived. Seelies and Warlocks mingled as if 400 years ago both hadn't been to the brink of war, Vampires dwelled either on the dance floor or made conversation with Ifrit or others. There were still no werewolves present and Magnus felt another headache forming; the conflict between werewolves and the corrupt vampire leader De Quincey was still lingering in the air.

Magnus Bane might have been tired, but he wasn't imperceptive. He had heard the whispers between fledglings and elders alike. His involvement with what had happened to De Quincey was still the subject of gossip. For immortals, what happened 10 years ago was still just a blink of the eyes. And this had been one of the reasons why he hadn't wanted to get out of bed, or out of the house. But Ragnor knew how to be persuasive, invoking his status as friend and High Warlock of London had been a move that made Magnus unable to say no. He had known Ragnor would flutter away, a pretty face probably the sheer reason why, and leave Magnus up to his own devices. And yet he had still said yes.

He picked up another glass of wine and slipped away to the veranda. London's summer was nothing compared to the heat he was used to live with, but it was quite the change he sometimes went looking for by traveling the world. He undid the cuffs off his shirt. Nobody seemed to say anything of it. Good.

There was a garden, a labyrinth of hedges out front and torches that seemed to strategically not shine into every corner of it, further from there everything seemed swallowed by darkness. Those would also be the spots where most giggles would be coming from. There was a group of warlocks to his left, playing around with magic. It was the act of creating shapes while being blind folded, an exercise done with young warlocks, but the party atmosphere showed that the challenge was doing so while having your mind addled with alcohol. And where Magnus, had he been less tired, less morose, would have been intrigued and checked out the game. He simply moved away.

Too much sound, too much liveliness, and he looked for a quiet spot away from the noise. He walked on the grass. Surely someone could be found to have a conversation with or at least he could recompose himself before trying to mingle again. He just needed… energy. The thing he had been lacking for over 5 years now. He exhaled, feeling the weight on his shoulders lighten ever so slightly. He sat down on the wooden bench, right under the weeping willow tree.

"Something troubling you, Darling ?"

Her voice was as sweet as it was warm. But it also captured his attention like no one else has in a while. He hadn't heard her coming. With age a vampire's talents expanded : they became deadlier, quieter, but also more charming. At least that was the case for Camille. There was a beauty to her, he couldn't even be made to look away. She was good-hearted. If she let herself be.

"Good evening, Camille." She stepped out of the shadow at his words. Her dark blue dress contrasted with her dyed hair. She had kept her lips red however and Magnus felt his gaze linger on them long enough for Camille to have noticed. The knowing smile was a give away neither of them would ignore.

"Dark hair suits you," he said, sitting a bit more relaxed on the bench now that she stood in front of him.

She licked her tongue over her fangs and his eyes followed the gesture. There was a lot of temptation to her mouth. And he realised : he wanted to see her moan and writhe underneath him. Have her nails in his chest and his hands in her hair.

It was a fire he had been seeking and looking for. His night had already changed for the better.

"Thank you, are you feeling better ? Your face reminded me of a shadow I thought I had pulled you from." She was blunt, not mocking, with a bit of playfulness. She seemed so caring while he knew she had recently lost the love of her life.

He extended his hand to hers. Her black gloves were soft to the touch as she held his hand. "Walk with me, Magnus." It was a gentle order. One he wouldn't have been able to refuse.

She curled her arm around his. And leaned into him. He noticed how she moved more humanly than she normally would. She didn't mimic breathing but her movements were more fluid. It meant she felt comfortable enough around him. That there was a mutual trust.

Magnus curled his fingers around the ones around her arm. He was reminded of her words, her touch, her concerned tone of voice as she talked him down from the edge of the bridge, how she opened up, her face streamed and streaked with blood. And it hit him once again how much Camille lived, how much she could thrive while emotions could soak someone into dark abysses you couldn't get out of on your own. How she could move on and live.

Her words had been of comfort, a glimpse of her story, but also promises of helping him, promises to get through what seemed like a way from which there was no coming back. He admired her, he admired how she never seemed to falter in her will, he knew he could learn from her.

And the way things were going tonight… he might want to explore even more things with her. He was falling in love, it was just starting, the vestiges of something new. And he hadn't been sure; but the way she now smiled at him as they walked around the garden, the way his stomach tied itself into knots ? It was the biggest indicator.

They were greeted by a few people. Lots of people addressed her with her title of baroness. Family names were still something new, sometimes still foreign. But Camille loved hers. They walked a bit further, to a place that was a bit more remote, still further away from the crowd. She didn't push, and it made him feel even more at ease. She waited for him to talk until he eventually did.

"I've been doing better, reaching out, things have been easier as of late. There are still lingering thoughts but none too dark to bear on my own" Magnus' voice felt confident. The vulnerability gave him the strength to talk.

"I'm glad to hear it, Darling." Her voice was melodic, thrilling. Her smile was genuine. Magnus noticed how more remote they were walking. It was as if she really wanted to have Magnus apart and away from the crowd. Despite it being her party, she clearly was ready to put a stop to the socializing. Camille loved elegance and had a fondness for class and prestige that Magnus shared only occasionally. There was beauty in living comfortably, something Magnus forgot and was thankful for Camille to remind him in this very instance. With her… with her he was starting to feel alive again. His spark for her hadn't faded since the first time he had seen her. He cherished it beyond anything else.

"I have a lot of things to thank you for, Camille." He held her hand. "Things my mouth or my heart right now aren't able to convey."

She detached herself from his arm. Stood in front of him again and her perfume hit his entire being in one go. She smelled of flowers, probably Lavender, the flower he was using the most in his potions lately. She looked at him and his words exited his lips before he could keep them in.

"Camille, I must say I wasn't thrilled for coming to this outing, but seeing you makes the ache in my heart and in my head already lighter." He lifts his hand and in a bold gesture he gently takes a lock of her hair between his fingers. The tension rises between them.

"Magnus," his name is sweet upon her lips, "I've been thinking about you, Ralf had meant everything to me. But one cannot be lonely forever. I really adore you Magnus Bane. Your strength and power are qualities that can only be admired. You're a man of many talents and qualities no one else possesses. Your worth is so much more than what you've seen and discovered so far, many centuries will pass and you will continue to grow in ways only you can, Magnus."

She had stepped closer.

"Magnus," had she been breathing, he would have felt it upon his face "I see your eyes lingering, I see, feel, smell your desire. I want to be bold, defiant, say yes to the odds we have both been weighing and the conclusions we've both made since longer than today."

He put his hands on her waist, pulled her to him. Her words echoed relief in his head. His hand traced her neck and cheek. The tiredness he had felt earlier tonight in his head lifted as soon as he finally kissed her, having wanted to do this for such a long time now. Her lips were lukewarm. It had an exquisite taste. She responded with fervor and of course his lip split. But he didn't stop.

He had fantasized enough to know and imagine what it would be like, to kiss a vampire, to kiss Camille. It was exactly what he believed it would be like, because even if he winced and she tried to retract from the kiss, he didn't let her. He continued on, learned to avoid the possibilities for cuts. He dragged her against the wall, pressed himself against her. Even the music coming from inside the mansion faded from his perception as he kissed her. Her hands were in his hair and his roamed over her waist. There was a lot of fabric to her dress, several layers at least. And her perfume was even better this close. It felt like she was all around him.

When he came up for air his lips were bruised and bloody. Her eyes were dark and dilated and he was sure that he had heard her groan. She looked transfixed, as if she still didn't realise herself they had finally kissed. He licked at the sensitive spots on his lower lip. "You're beautiful," he managed to breathe out. Her hand went to the lapel of his jacket and she licked his lip, bringing him closer. His hands went to her waist once more and her whole body brushed against him. He was hard by merely kissing her, there was no denying that. Camille would turn his world upside down, touching her made the skies break open and kissing her... kissing her was having the universe fold in upon itself where the felicity and love he felt for himself and for life could be resurrected. He felt a reborn man in her arms. And for a moment the bleakness of his life felt less washed out and lost.

"Your eyes are the brightest of embers, Magnus." She smiled, resting her arms around his neck as she gazed into him, stripping him naked of fear and self-doubt.

"Unsettling ?" He didn't motion himself away from her body, she hadn't acted or said the words in revulsion. He was a confident man. He wasn't hurt by people who disliked what they saw. He wasn't, and wouldn't be… shouldn't be. He let his hand circle her waist to the intricate lacing of her dress, the rough texture of the ribbons grounding him in the wake.

"No," she caressed the sides of his hair and neck, which put his mind at ease. "We are what we are, Magnus," she smiled in mischief, "there is no changing us, we're here for better and for worse."

She kissed him again with a brief contact of their lips. But Magnus would not let it end here. His tongue snuck past his lips and she opened up to him to be kissed in ways that made him tremble. The way she moaned showed he was quite good at understanding what she liked more and what she liked less. Her hands were on his arse and she tilted her hips, responding to his grinding. "You are right," he whispered, the need of her was so clearly on his breath he had a hard time concealing it.

"You'll find that I'm right about a lot of things, Sir Bane." Her smile was disarming. Her body also didn't stop teasing him. Her touch made his mind entangle him with desire and longing, too strong to push away and give a proper quip in response.

"Is that so, Milady Belcourt ?" Her grin… her body… her hands found a way underneath his clothing. Her nails were scratching the skin of his back and his buttock. She more than liked that.

"You know, Magnus, some really need to earn the privilege of calling me that." She cocked her head to the side to see how he would respond. She was testing something. And he knew exactly what. His cock swelled harder in response to her tone.

"Is that so ?" He whispered in her ear, his fingers were around her curls. "Something that requires further discussion upon this private matter ?" His lips laid where her pulse used to be. She squeezed his ass, which made him grunt as a last response.

"Is it something you would like ?" She asked as her own words faltered under his tongue. He inhaled her perfume and her fingers roamed over his back. He wanted to be inside of her… to see and feel these fingers tear his flesh and ruin his clothes. He wanted to kiss her breasts, taste her sex.

"Camille," he stood firm and strong, "I've wanted you to drink my blood ever since I met you." Magnus felt how much that affected her. She liked the chase. She liked control. He would give it to her. He would give his whole soul to her right in this very moment if she asked it of him.

"Darling, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into." Her response was everything he longed for as she suddenly was the one pressing him against the wall, her form between his legs and his air being kissed away. She was strong, lifted him from the floor, trapped him between cold stone and her lukewarm body. She didn't give him time to swear between hiccups of breath and trembling sighs.

He held on to her as she decided to take them elsewhere. Being lifted up by a vampire in a courtyard and slammed against a bedroom's wooden door the next hadn't been on his schedule. It hadn't been, but now his skin flushed and his hands were trying to grope whatever he could. English tailored dresses were pretty but there were too many layers. They managed to open the door and when it closed behind them he fell to his knees.

His hands on her hips traveled all the way down. He touched her shoes. His eyes cast down. His hand was around her ankle. And as he caressed up he felt the texture of her stockings. His eyes were riveted in wonder and awe as he felt and caressed her underclothes all the way up to a firm leather strap. A sense of danger flooded over him, which aroused him to no end.

"Milady," he said as he rose again on his feet as he unsheathed the concealed blade from it's imprisonment. The dagger was sharp and traditional except for it's gemstone at the pommel. "This is quite the dangerous instrument you're hiding under there."

She chuckled. "Anyone needs to protect themselves, especially defenseless women like me." Her toothy grin gave rise to the hairs on his neck, her smile was too sweet and dangerous. As she stepped forward he felt confidence in looking down toward her breasts.

Her fingers started to unlace the front of her dress. And with one gaze he knew he was only allowed to watch. So he did. On his knees, not unfamiliar with the context of such a power dynamic, he had played around during the centuries of his life after all. There wasn't anyone he would trust more in his life than Camille right now. She deserved his submission, his care… even his love. He was ready to fall in love. If time permitted it. And time… they had an eternity of it.

Her beauty made her almost celestial, had angelic beings not been so dangerous and unforgiving. But then again so was Camille. The most beautiful and deadliest woman he'd known in this very instance. She was and could be his everything. He wanted her to be. She had gotten rid of her upper dress and under dress, her crinoline and petticoat were discarded carelessly on the floor. Her breasts were exposed and accentuated by her corset. Her legs were still clothed with her bloomers; they gave away her figure and long legs, she was so tall and beautiful. The leather strap that used to hold the concealed blade was still fastened around her leg. And by the very damnation of his soul : he wanted those legs wrapped around his waist as he'd push into her. He wanted to see her take pleasure and orgasm. He wanted to kiss her again.

"Take your clothes off, all of them." He complied, keeping his head and gaze high, not in defiance, but in reverence. This aroused him, she made him feel things, and good things, and the anticipation of touching her, relinquishing control to her, feeling valued, cherished, looked after. "Stand up." He did, dagger in hand. "A little bird told me you were quite skilled with a blade, Magnus Bane. Are the rumors any true ?"

He couldn't hide the smile from his face. Arrogance didn't exist if you indeed possessed the skills you were praised about. "Oh very much so." She liked his confidence and put some of her curls behind her ear. Her up-do was still intact even after having made out the way they did.

"So prove it."

Two steps and he stood before her, knife firmly in hand. Her eyelids grew heavy as without mercy he stuck out the blade to his side. A shiver passed between them, as the razor sharp edge hooked itself on her bloomers. It sliced through the fabric little by little, helped by Magnus' hand. The way she moved and almost shifted on her feet, they both liked that. And his cock was leaking at the tip because of it. He cut away at the garment. Every stroke left _him_ breathless and _them_ taut in tension. She stood perfectly still. The drag on her skin didn't break the flesh of her leg and Magnus could smell her arousal from where he stood.

He made sure the bloomers were never to be used again. He cut away the last piece, letting it fall on the floor. He glanced down at her. Her dark curls looked wet and moist; he longed to bury his face between her legs. Lick away at her until she'd scream his name in pleasure. He didn't touch. Not unless he'd been given permission to. She raised her hand and he let the dagger fall on the floor once he had unclasped her thigh holster. Camille pushed him against the nearest wall.

Her mouth was a fire ablaze and her body, even though lukewarm, lit with a passion he couldn't control. He kissed her back, flipped sides with her, pressed her against the wood, lifted her legs. She bit at his mouth as he thrust home. The first moan escaping her was akin to a growl and he just got lost in the wetness of her heat. The blood in her veins directed itself to heat up and move what was necessary and welcome. She clenched around him, making him lose his mind and any capable thought that wasn't her or their joined bodies.

He lost track of the motion once or twice, sweat beading from his forehead as he pushed in and out of her. She was beautiful and her eyes lingered on his chest and neck and her nails scratched at his back, leaving marks of their passage in their wake. The pleasure mixed with the pain and he couldn't believe what she said next.

"Stop."

Not an act of taking away consent, an order to regain control. He let her down, his skin prickled and he bit his bruised lip as he followed her order. He breathed hard, trying to grasp his mind to not… to not lose itself to orgasm. It hurt and his magic was manifesting itself by emitting golden amber tendrils before they dissipated into the air. Camille smirked but acknowledged his submission. He followed her with his eyes as she moved toward the bed. She extended her hand. A gesture of companionship but also a promise of more. Magnus realized how much more Camille was than a dark temptation. She was a guiding hand. After all of this, this would be more than just sex for him. She settled him onto the mattress. He was laid bare and still very much erect.

"You're handsome, Darling." Her voice was like liquid fire. It made his cock twitch to the cool air. Her hand ghosted over his torso and nipples. "Burning, and all of that for me." Her nail traced his skin and Magnus moaned. Her fingers circled his cock and he put his hand to trap it there. A bold gesture, he looked feverish toward her, her dark eyes peered into his, waiting for him to speak.

"My blood and body are yours, please, just…" he swallowed, the air in his lungs was dry and his tongue parched and starving, he wanted her… so badly "Please, just take me." He let go of her hand. In a blink of an eye she was on top of him. Her thumb and finger circled his jaw, forcing it open. She leaned down. Her tongue tasted the bruised and bloody lip. He winced at the sensitivity of it.

She tilted his head to the side, slowly, to play with his anticipation. Camille's teeth sunk into his artery. His cry of pain died in his throat and he couldn't control his arms as they circled around her waist until they fell limp next to him. His eyes rolled back at the first draw of blood. His body, his mind going into a fog of nothingness. Her teeth hooked to his flesh and the current of exaltation made him forget where he was, who he was. His mind found no thoughts, no worries, no burdens to latch onto. Everything seeped into the strange ascension of his own soul. He floated, between consciousness and new awakening. The second draw made him yield fully and completely. His whole body felt veneration, ecstasy, bliss. He couldn't hear his own plea. His own waterfall of words, he knew he was talking, praising, forming circles in his mind. His magic was going back and forth in its manifestation of colours and shapes.

He was infinite everywhere, nowhere, he couldn't feel himself, his body was engulfed in shadow and strength, in happiness. There wasn't even a moment to mourn when she retracted her fangs and moved his now pliant body. She raised his legs almost fully next to his head and forced his cock backwards to let him penetrate her again. He whined, he couldn't even muster any strength to help as she readjusted her hips, not when she sank her teeth into his chest. It was deep, he was bleeding, but the way she moved on his cock and the venom inside of his body, it was hard, straining, and still so very deep. In this instance she was his everything, the very air he breathed. His lifeline to another plane of existence.

She fucked him mercilessly, her full weight was on him and her wetness, her heat, he didn't know how many times more she drew blood from him but every time she did he felt as if he ascended somewhere where only his mind could follow. He was in full vertigo first before his body caught up with her relentless movements, to her squeezing, the warmth of her walls around him. He felt his _self_ be brought to orgasm and he growled out his release with tear-streaked cheeks. She let him take pause but did not ease off him until he had spilled his very last drop.

His body shivered, adrenaline still coursed through his veins and even in the headiness of his slowed down movements he sat up to kiss her. Slowly, softly, she followed his lead until he regained a semblance of bearing, his muscles ached, his legs mostly.

"How are you feeling ?" A question from her to him. But there were no words he could utter that would encompass whatever he had felt and was feeling. She let herself be dragged onto her back.

"Never better." He responded as he settled between her legs. He kissed her mouth, her jaw, her collarbone, her breasts. She smiled and laid her hands in his hair. She played with the locks before tugging gently while pushing his head lower.

Camille moaned as he slid his fingers inside of her. Her smell was as wonderful as he had imagined. His tongue lapped at her folds, parting but also teasing. He directed a bit of magic to his fingertips and her wetness increased as he massaged her. Her taste, their taste was carnal and enthralling. He'd never get enough of this, of her fingers against his scalp and her hips moving against his mouth. She chased her own pleasure. And not just for the mimic of a humanity she was searching for, but as a genuine way to feel alive. She praised him as much as she cursed him. He moved his fingers in and out, taking what was given and leaving only a hunger for more.

She clenched around him during her final release and kissed him with the praise of his name on her lips.

Magnus laid next to her and stretched his legs. They didn't exchange words, not yet. He looked at Camille as she sat up. Her hair was in a state of utter disarray. Her body hadn't sweated. There wasn't even a flush on her skin. Either because she decided it so or because her body simply couldn't. He felt an itch in his skin, a need to caress her, touch her. But where passion had now come and passed, feelings were emerging, deep from within. She undid the intricate knots and hair ornaments that only stayed in place with a single lock of hair. He fidgeted wordlessly, unsure how to feel, he wasn't even sure how much was still the effects of the venom and how much were feelings that had unlocked. He was a confident man, that wasn't the point, but uncertainty would addle any mind at any moment, especially now. Because what was the 'now' he was living in. One where he stayed or left.

"Could you help me out ?" she asked, breaking the silence. She gestured toward her corset. He sat closer to her and undid the knots of her corset with brief gestures. She made a pleased sound as she started to shrug off the garment together with her stockings.

"Camille ?" There was hesitance in his voice, he couldn't conceal it. He sighed, sitting back as she stood up. She went to the washing basin and splashed water on her body. He didn't know how to voice his doubts.

"You're staying." She turned around while toweling off the rest off her body. She walked toward him and went on her knees. Magnus stared at her hands reaching out to him. "Whatever you're thinking, whatever you're feeling, you're staying." He clasped his hands with hers. "Magnus, the world is only greater because you're in it. I like you Magnus Bane. Unless you want to go, you're staying."

"Then I'm staying, if you'll have me," he said softly, and his hands didn't tremble. There was comfort in her touch and his mind was laid to rest. Where he would find anger or even exhaustion by being there, vulnerable and unable to stand for himself without help, he found peace. Camille helped him, helped him because she wanted to. It didn't take the sex, it didn't take just her kind words. It was more, so much more than that. Loneliness was stilled when he was around her. She was his anchor, but now, by staying, by giving him the choice to stay, he could choose to stay and be strong for himself. To choose what would be good for him and not what he would think another would like him to do. He wanted to stay, to have Camille in his arms until her body grew colder and the night ever longer.

She climbed under the covers with him. He enclosed her as he smelled her hair. There was more warmth between them than he had felt in days, or months. He belonged here, with her, and she belonged there, with him, in his heart. She had put him aflame with renewed passion and most importantly with love, being in love… being in love with life, a will to live. And for one night he felt like he was dying a little bit less.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're over 18 and wanna hang out with other people who love Shadowhunters (I'm there too) come check out the [Hunter's Moon Discord](https://discord.gg/RhZPtsd)


End file.
